


Is he gone, and hath nothing?

by disdainfullady



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfullady/pseuds/disdainfullady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lilly's fountain wasn't the only memorial celebration Celeste held.  Takes place in a theoretical space between Wrath of Con and You Think You Know Somebody.  Some Troy/Veronica.  Some Logan/Veronica hateflirt.  And various reactions to Lilly's absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is he gone, and hath nothing?

     The envelope rested in a shallow tray at his place at the table.  Or what would be his place if they ever did anything so quaint as to eat together anymore.  Mom must have gone back to that one assistant -Celia? - the one who'd developed the special filing system and took trips to the Container store for fun.  Which meant Heidi was gone.  Which probably meant Mom had figured out Aaron was screwing her. His fingers itched and he turned his attention back to the envelope in front of him, carefully not clenching them.

     Logan picked the thing up gingerly between thumb and forefinger.  Heavy cream-colored stationary, undoubtedly imported from whatever country was the latest thing in paper products.  His name engraved in swirling letters an inch high.  He didn't have to see the stylized K on the back to recognize it as an invitation to yet another of Celeste's guilt-laden Lilly memoriums.  What better way to make it up to the daughter you barely noticed than to make sure her name was posthumously plastered all over town?  A commemorative tree in the park.  A dedicated bench at the boardwalk.  All they needed was a Lilly Kane memorial statue at the mall and they could turn the whole damn town into a mausoleum.

     He'd gone to the first one for Lilly's sake, and the last handful for Duncan, but he honestly didn't think he could take another round of people who hadn't even known Lilly glutting themselves with simulated grief.  He turned to toss the invite into the ever growing pile of catalogues in the recycling - the things multiplied like tribbles even though, as far as he was aware, his mother had never bought anything from even one of them - when he felt that back of the neck prickle and realized he wasn’t alone in the room.

     He turned guiltily - always guiltily, and he'd hate himself for that as soon as he found the time.

     "Oh, Logan, you saw?"

     Mom.  Steady on her feet, thank goodness.  Dressed for the gym in the afternoon though, which meant two workouts today.  Yeah, she knew.  He looked down at the floor in front of him, counting twenty-three tiles before he trusted himself not to somehow make things worse.  Clutching the invitation like a lifeline, he reached for the less awkward conversation topic that was his dead girlfriend.

     "Another memorial?"  He slid a finger under the envelope's fold, mechanically.

     "More a celebration?" she offered uncertainly, and he hated that question in her voice, hated that she danced around him the way she danced around daddy dearest - he put out an unsteady arm, bracing himself against the counter, against the thought that his own mother might be afraid of him.

     He skimmed the enclosed card with determination, eyes narrowed.  "Cordially invited... gotta love Celeste's sense of decorum..." His fingers tightened on paper thick enough not to crumple and he wondered where Celia had stuck the shredder. "She's throwing a birthday party?  Is this a joke?"

     "A memorial celebration."

     He was seized with an overwhelming desire to laugh.  "A celebration.  In honor of their dead daughter's birthday.  Oh look!  They're accepting donations to the Kane foundation in lieu of gifts.  God." The invitation slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers.  "She's using it as a fucking fundraiser?  That's just priceless. Vintage Celeste."

     "Logan."

     "Lilly wouldn't even let her in the house during her parties."  She flinched, and he deflated.

     He watched her purple trainers cross the room as she made her way over to him, carefully rescuing the slightly mangled invite from the floor, leaning slightly forward as she studied his eyes.

     "Celeste has to grieve in her own way, honey."

     Even if that way was insane.  Even if Lilly would hate it.  Even if-

     "I thought we'd all go.  Show our support.”  She paused.  “It's not till next Friday, your father should be back in town then."

     Goody.  Cause this whole thing wasn't fucked up enough.

     She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, and he couldn't decide if he wanted to shake her off or curl into her arms like he was five again.  He concentrated on doing nothing, flinching as she sighed.

     "I need to run before Antoine takes it out on me in extra reps.  I'll probably be home late, but I had Manuela fix you something."  He nodded, and she squeezed his arm lightly.  "And Logan? Try not to judge Celeste too harshly.  I can't imagine - she lost Lilly too.  Her daughter.  I don't - just try to give her the benefit of the doubt, okay?"

     "Yeah, yeah, okay."  His voice sounds hollow to his own ears.

     "Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.  Be good."

     He waited till she was gone to curl up with a bottle of scotch.

 ***

      "Hey, sexy.  How goes the one woman army?"

     Veronica closed her locker, her back stiffening reflexively before she registered the speaker.  Of course. Troy.  She smiled genuinely – that’s right, Miss James, a real smile, so much for the whole disaffected youth thing – and sternly instructed herself to relax as he pulled her into a quick embrace.

     "Oh you know.  Chewing bubble gum and kicking ass, as per usual."

     He grinned down at her and she bit her lip.  It had been close to a month now.  She should be used to seeing him show up when he said he was going to.  She shouldn't keep being surprised.  But she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

_Be honest, Veronica.  You're not waiting for a shoe.  A shoe would be a piece of cake.  You're waiting for a shoe locker, a grand piano, and possibly the kitchen sink._

     She still couldn't see how Troy navigated the chum infested 09er waters without cutting her battered little lifeboat loose, but the one time she'd tried to talk to him about it he'd changed the subject so successfully that they'd were an hour into an argument about whether Christian Slater's character in Heathers was real or a manifestation of Wynona Ryder's subconscious before she'd noticed.  And even then, she’d still needed to prove him wrong.

     He was studying her with those criminally blue eyes, and she looked down, suddenly unsure how much gratitude he might read in her face.

     Pretty sure I lose badass girlfriend points for being relieved he's still treating me like a human being.

     "Hey," his thumb chafed the palm of her hand.  "Where'd you go just now?"

     "New Zealand, obviously."  She rolled her eyes at his obtuseness.  "I did the whole Lord of the Rings tour thing.  Turns out Middle Earth is pretty nice."

     Control back, she risked looking up again.  He didn't look diverted, damn it, and she hated to think he might be better at diversionary tactics than she was.  She taught the _class_ in obfuscation and distraction.  She looked down, casting around for a semi-plausible excuse, when he shook his head in feigned disbelief, letting the matter go, for the moment at least.  Which was good, because she had thought of no pop cultural landmines to throw his way. 

     He threw an arm over her shoulder and they walked toward her AP bio class.  "You're telling me you visited the actual land of the hobbits and no one put two and two together?"

     "Short jokes?  Really?  Does that sound like a winning strategy?"

     They stopped outside the door and he turned toward her, brushing a lock of hair of her face.  "How about I take you out to a swanky event instead?"

     "Define swanky.  Are we talking, 'I'll stick out like a sore thumb' or 'I'll REALLY stick out like a sore thumb?" she asked, weighing invisible hypotheticals with her hands.  Although, that would suggest there was such a thing as visible hypotheticals.  She really should nap before her next stakeout.

     "I'm thinking, Neptune Grande ballroom. Champagne.  Finger food.  Me in a tux, you something utterly sinful.  Rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful."

     "And then we spend the rest of the night cleaning said shoulders?"

     His grin widened.  "I'll do yours if you do mine."

     She elbowed him in the side and tried to ignore the nervous clench in her stomach at his words. Troy had been less than subtle about a desire to go further than backseat makeouts.  He hadn't pushed exactly, just made it really clear where he stood. And that was at attention. 

_No, bad Veronica_.

     It wasn't that she didn't want to do anything more, she didn't think, ignoring the slightly hysterical voice in the back of her head.  But nothing in her time with Duncan had prepared her for this.  And it wasn't like she had anyone to talk it over with.  She had an inkling Wallace would NOT be up for such a conversation, and her dad's head would explode if she even tiptoed in that conversational direction.  No mom.  No Lilly.  Not that she couldn't predict Lilly's contribution to said conversation, but then the two of them had never been on the same page when it came to sexual confidence.  She's pretty sure they weren't even on the same book.

     She'd been sweet.  Pretty, maybe.  She'd never been sexy.  She wasn't used to being looked at like she was - and part of her still couldn't quite reconcile the admiration in his eyes as being aimed at her.

     "So when is this swank soiree?"

     "Saturday.  The 18th."

     She froze, her mind kaleidescoping previous October 18ths.  The camping trip when she turned 12, when they realized they'd forgotten bug spray and Lilly swore off nature forever, a state of affairs which had lasted all of two weeks.  The roaring twenties style speakeasy for her 16th, Lilly insisting on calling them all nicknames like Bingo, and Dickie, and Bubbles, serving only period appropriate cocktails which meant they'd all spent the night with absolutely no idea what they were drinking.  And last year.  Alone in her bedroom, unable to stop crying, Lilly's present already wrapped and hidden on a shelf in her closet.  She still had it, stowed behind a stack of the paperback mysteries she'd spent the summer devouring, the carefully curled ribbon mashed from the move but otherwise intact.

     "I can't."

     "Veronica?"

     "I can't do anything on Saturday, I'm sorry."  She made to leave even though they were already standing in front of her classroom.

     "Veronica, talk to me."  She closed her eyes.  "What's going on?  I thought you'd want to be there."

     Nothing much, just another milestone Lilly never hit.  She attempted a smile.

     "I just have plans, that's all."

      Tears and an 80s teenfest totally counted as a plan.

     "What plans?"

     She'd spent the last year not being pushed on personal stuff, if only because no one actually cared enough to do so.  Funny that she'd find that particular silver lining now, when it had evaporated.  "Oh you know, same thing I do every night, try and take over the world."  She kept her tone deliberately light.  It had worked once today, after all.

     "Breaking out of the lab again, huh?  You know Pinky's just going to get in the way."

     Distraction could be good.  Maybe.  Lilly would think so.  Shoot, Lilly would be telling her to grab a hold of life with both hands.  _Life?  We're calling it life now?  Sure, Veronica, take hold of life, or whatever else you may find down there._

     "Saturday is, or would be, Lilly's birthday.  You said you guys had met a few times?"

     "At the marina, yeah.  Pretty sure she saw me as her kid brother's annoying friend, but yeah.  Listen, we don't have to go, if you don't want to.  I just thought, since it was in her honor, you'd want to be there.”

     Veronica blinked.

     "Wait, what?"

     "It's a party in her honor.  A celebration of life, the invitation said."

     "Fucking Celeste, of course."  It was almost funny how predictable she was. Guess she finally got the daughter she wanted. "If Celeste had tried this for one of her actual birthdays, Lilly would have shown up an hour late, flashed the most important people she could find, stolen a couple of bottles of booze and taken off."

     "Sounds like a plan."  At her raised eyebrow he continued, "Hey, she was your friend.  You should be there." Troy quirked a smile.  "And if you feel the need to flash the crowd in her honor, then it is my duty to support you."

***

     He needed to get out of here.  Now, this instant. 

     He’d known the night would be hell.  Hell, he’d welcomed it.  But he hadn’t expected _this_.  He’d thought it was going to be a typical Celeste circle jerk, and sure, for the most part, that’s what it was. Elegant, understated – blah bitty blah blah.  But then, there were little things, little touches that were pure Lilly and he hadn’t seen that coming.  He hadn’t thought Celeste might actually try to make it about who Lilly was instead of who she wanted her to be.

     Those damn pictures.  There were pictures at the other shindigs.  Beautifully done, professionally lighted.  Pictures that showed her beauty and concealed the rest.

     Not her with her arm slung around Veronica, covered in mud after a soccer game.  Or making a face at the camera, her leg broken from the Anne of Green Gables rooftop walk incident.  Or grinning like a madwoman while he held the prizes she’d gotten at what seemed like every damn booth at the carnival.

     It was still a cleaned up version of Lilly, maybe – mud and all – but it was a version of Lilly he couldn’t remember seeing Celeste acknowledge, and the fact that she might genuinely be missing her instead of just feeling guilty made the whole thing hit harder somehow.

     He desperately wanted to escape, but he could still feel Aaron’s grip on his shoulder as they made their way inside, and he knew what would be on the menu if he ditched.  Even though that was the entire reason he’d driven himself.  He hadn’t yet worked himself up to the point where leaving was the less painful option, but the night was young.

     Logan watched from the corner, tumbler clutched in his hand, as his parents made their way over to the Kanes.  The interaction was forced, and a little too showy, especially the hugs Aaron offered, but he was weirdly, inexplicably grateful to them for trying.  No one else was.

     He’d seen Shelly, and Pam and John, a couple of other people Lilly couldn’t give a crap about, all trying desperately to pretend that they were at a normal party, like they weren’t there celebrating a dead girl.  His dead girl. 

     Mostly it was Celeste’s people.  Or Jake’s, maybe, he guessed.  No Duncan, as far as he could tell.  Probably took too many happy pills again, and god, did he wish he could join him and that it might actually work.  He wished he could forget, even for a second what she’d looked like on that video.

     The crowd shifted and he pushed away from the wall, eyes trained the figure across the room, golden hair a beacon.   He kept staring even as the mass of bodies moved once more, swallowing her in their wake.

     There was no way Celeste invited her.

     Not after her dad.  No.

     No matter how much Celeste apparently missed Lilly she wouldn’t extend that grace to Veronica Mars.  Would she?

     He’d crossed the room, scanning the place he’d last seen her before his thoughts caught up to him and he wondered what the hell he thought he would say anyway.   He was itching to make a scene, demand she leave, call her out as the traitor she was.  Before the memorial video, he would have done it too.

     Now… he almost wanted her here.  And did that ever feel wrong.

     He spotted her talking Vandergraff and his lip twisted.  Too much to think she was actually there for Lilly, instead of that tool, he supposed.  Then he took in her dress, the black fabric falling away, essentially backless, and he reconsidered.   Because he knew Veronica Mars, and she’d never wear that dress for that nimrod.  But for Lilly?  She would wear it for Lilly.

     Vandergraff’s hand slipped lower on her back, too low, and his throat tightened as he resisted the urge to remove the guy’s hand himself.

     Yeah, that would be a fun one to explain.

     Veronica shifted and ducked her head, a maneuver he recognized.  Used to be she did that to hide behind her curtain of hair, but with the new do you could still see her face, read the uncertainty there. _Because she’s uncomfortable with you pawing her, you ass._ Troy dropped his hand into his pocket, making like he meant to grab his cell phone the whole time.

     She glanced up and spotted him.  For a split second, before the mask descended, he thought he read uncertainty.  Then it was gone and he recognized the set of her shoulders, the tip of her chin.  Her fighting stance.

     He let a grin spread across his face as he walked toward her.  He needed this.

     “If it isn’t Vandegraff. And escort.”

     The guy barely spared him a glance.  He nodded briefly and turned back to his phone, taking a further step away as he kept texting, like that wasn’t fucking suspicious when his supposed girlfriend was right in front of him, but hey, if the great detective wasn’t picking up on anything far be it from him to point out the obvious.

     “Lucifer.”  She smiled sweetly up on him, in full ‘I’m so cute, it’s ridiculous’ mode.

     “This must make a nice change, hanging out at a hotel where they don’t charge for the hour, huh?”

     She looked past him, smile still on her face, doing that thing where she didn’t engage, like she didn’t – like they didn’t both need this tonight.

  “Hey, hey, Veronica.” He leaned toward her, earnestness settling over him like a mantle.  He could see it, the slight widening of her eyes, even as her mouth stayed twisted in that god-awful defensive smirk.   She met his gaze, waiting for the punchline, and he nodded at her, shoving his hands in his pockets as he straightened up.  "Don't take less than a hundred."

     She didn’t flinch. She never flinched anymore.  Instead her smile broadened into something resembling a real grin, and it was probably a messed up response to this whole thing, but he was right there with her.

     "Aw, Logan.  You want the fairy tale?  Some guy to come along, sweep you off your feet, put you up in a great condo?"

     "Hey, if it worked for Cinderfuckingella."

     They were skating close to dangerous territory here and they both knew it.  Too  close to movie nights in the Kane media room. Duncan passed out on a chair, the two of them offering their own Rifftrax commentary to whatever was on offer until Lilly threatened to throttle them both.

     He could tell when the memory hit her too.  She looked up at him and for just a second he was having a fucking nostalgic moment with Veronica Mars of all people. More than that, he didn’t even care.   It was Lilly's birthday and they were the only people in the whole damn room actually thinking about her.

     "Everything good here?"  Her tool of a boyfriend finally stopped texting whoever and stepped in.  Playing the white knight when she didn't need one anymore.  Not that she ever needed anyone.  It's one of the things he – his mind swerved as he drove that thought into a metaphorical ditch and then torched the damn thing for good measure.

     She smiled at Troyboy and he was suddenly, viscerally disappointed as the two exchanged a stupid peck on the lips.

Troy shook his hand and offered a ‘hey man,’ before turning away, shutting him out of the conversation.  “Listen, Veronica, I know I dragged you to this thing, but do you think – that was my mom – apparently my brother got into an accident, nothing serious, she says, but  she wants me there and I feel like I should go, you know?”

     She looked at him with genuine concern, like ‘hospital accident’ wasn’t the most overused lie there was, and it was almost comforting to see the same old naïve Veronica still existed somewhere.

     “Do you want me to come with you?”

     _Yeah, do you, dude?_

     “I don’t want to ruin your night.  I don’t think the hospital will let anyone in but family at this hour anyway.  Will you be okay?  Or I could get you a cab if you didn’t – if you wanted to leave.”

     “I got her, man.”

     He had no idea why he’d said that, and Veronica was staring at him like he’d grown a second head.  Which almost made it worth it, actually.

     Vandegraff gave him a look he probably deserved but wanted to smack off his face anyway.  “Thanks for the offer, man, but, I don’t know that Veronica would be comfortable.”

     He was about to make a joke about letting her into the backseat so she would be more comfortable when he reflected that that wouldn’t actually help him with his current objective.  Which was to spend more time with Veronica Mars.  Apparently.

“It’s Lilly’s birthday, Veronica.  You’re really going to bail?”

***

     Veronica wasn’t sure who she wanted to murder more, Logan, for trying to guilt her about Lilly or Troy engineering the whole fiasco in the first place.

     Logan.  Definitely Logan.

     But only in a Project Runwayesque consideration of his whole body of work sort of way.  Based on today alone, it would be auf wiedersehen to them both.

     Troy kept looking from her to his phone, his face a mask of concern, and she felt an obscure measure of guilt.  His brother was hurt, the last thing he needed was to act as referee between her and Logan. 

     “Hey, you go ahead.”  She nodded at Troy, putting as much reassurance as she could behind the words.  “I’ll call Wallace to come get me in a little bit.”

_Like three minutes from now.  That qualified as a little bit, right?_

     Troy looked simultaneously worried and hopeful.  “Are you sure?”  He glanced at Logan again.

     “I’ll be fine,” she said a little too sharply, and she leaned up to give him a kiss to soothe away any imagined slight. _I’m always fine._

     “Okay then,” Troy cast one last wary look at Logan, but didn’t engage, thankfully.

     “Call me when you know something, okay?”

     “Yeah, of course,” he raised his eyebrows.  “If it’s bad I might need some comforting.”

     She didn’t think her expression had changed but it must have because he raised his hands defensively.  “Joking.  Lance is a tool, but he’s still my brother, and I don’t – it’s easier to joke.”

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I never use humor as a defense mechanism.”

     She heard a snort from behind her where Logan was _still_ standing, but Troy just nodded absently.  “Okay, well, I’ll call you, okay?”

     “Of course.”  He was already walking away, and she ignored the sudden feeling of naked insecurity at actually being left alone here.  Watching Troy disappear from view she felt her parachute deciding to get back on the damn plane without her.

     Focused on ignoring the fact that Logan would not leave  she grabbed her phone from her ridiculously tiny and therefore appropriate purse.  Because apparently the lack of pockets in evening wear meant you needed _less_ purse room

     “Come on, Wallace.  Answer.  You know you want to.”

     Voicemail.  Damn.  And dad was out of town.

     “I told you I’d give you a ride.” Logan leaned over her wearing a frown that still managed to be friendlier than most of his smiles.  She’d dissect that later.

     “Oh, you must have missed the part where I ignored you.  It happened just a minute ago.  I was standing here, having a conversation with someone that wasn’t you?  This ringing any bells?”

     Calling Weevil would be a waste of a favor.  But then again, spending money on a cab ride would be… spending money on a cab ride.

     “You’re seriously going to bail?”

     “You seriously think you have any influence on my decisions whatsoever?”

     “No, I get it.   None of us matter.  You made that clear a year ago.  But I thought you still pretended to care about Lilly.”

     She would boil Logan Echolls alive.  Cheerfully, even.  It wasn’t like his guilt trip actually going to work, but she couldn’t believe that he still thought he had any right to go there.

     She turned to Logan. “So, in honor of Lilly's birthday, I get to let you torture me?

     He grinned wickedly.  "I'm game if you are."

     She did not step on his foot.

     She would call Weevil.  At this point the favor balance was probably worth it.  And it wasn’t like he wouldn’t need her help again soon, probably.

     “What’s the matter,” Logan asked, as she scrolled through her contacts.  “You scared?”

     “Oooh, the dreaded peer pressure.”  She nodded.  “Unfortunately, you forgot to double dog dare me, so I remain indifferent.”

     “Indifferent, or bitchy?  I always get those two mixed up.”

     “Well, that explains a lot about this last year.”

     No answer from Weevil either.  It was almost like people kept living their own lives when she wasn’t around.  Which was nonsense.

     She really didn’t want to have to call a cab.  But she was running low on people to sweet-talk.  It was sad to think that a year ago she could have probably called a dozen different people – or pulled them away from the party – to give her a ride.  And now she was wondering if she dared interrupt the mystery that was Cliff’s Saturday nights.

     “Run along, Logan.  Go find whatever warm body you’re going to use to forget Lilly this time, and I promise I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

     He stiffened.  “You think I ever forget her?”

     “No, I think you were with Caitlin Ford because of her wit and charming personality.”

     “I’m not the one who walked away from Lilly.  From my friends.”  He’d stopped paying attention to his volume, and people were starting to stare.  Because clearly, she wasn’t feeling out of place enough.

     “Everything okay here?”  Aaron Echolls’ voice boomed behind them and Logan jumped like a startled cat as his father clapped one hand on his shoulder.  “Veronica?”

     She looked from Logan and back to his dad, practically tasting the urge to say something that might get his precious car taken away again.

     “Everything’s fine, Mr. Echolls.”

     “Aaron.”

     “Right.”  That was never going to not be weird.  “I was actually on my way out.”

     “Her date bailed.  I was going to give her a ride home.”  He looked down at her briefly, daring her to comment before turning back to his dad.  “If that’s okay?”

     Mr. Echolls looked between the two of them, and it turned out that tension really was a palpable thing. Logan was practically vibrating and she sighed inwardly before turning to Logan’s dad.

     “I’d really appreciate it.”  A deprecating laugh was always a good way to diffuse tension, so she laughed.  Deprecatingly.  “I’m sort of stranded here.”

     Mr. Echolls nodded then, taking a step back.  “Of course.  I can have the driver take you and come back for us.”

     Weirder than Logan taking her himself?  Yes.  Probably. “Oh, I couldn’t put you out.”

     “It’s okay, dad,” Logan offered.  “I drove remember?”

     Aaron laughed then, although there was nothing funny that she could see about it.  “Well, you two kids have fun then.”  Someone called for Aaron’s attention and he turned away.

     “Logan?”

     He was still looking at the spot where his dad had been standing, and she frowned.

     “Logan?”  Nothing.   She reached out and pinched the flesh at his wrist and he turned turned fogged eyes toward her.   “I hate to interrupt what is clearly a personal moment, but since you’ve manipulated me into accepting your offer, do you think it could be sooner rather than later?”

     He came back to himself then, shaking off the malaise as suddenly as it had settled on him, looking down at his reddened skin then back at her in disbelief.  “Wow.  We’re having fun already.”


End file.
